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Halo: Warrior Spirits
Halo: Warrior Spirits is a novella written by Lieutenant Davies. Summary Even the most powerful of warriors began as children. They are then formed into what they are by those that came before. And yet, not one generation is identical; every single one contributes to some form of change. And that is why the new generation will always outdo the older. In the years after The Great War and The Great Schism, the Sangheili of the Koidam lineage eagerly forge an empire independent from the Vadam, the latter whom most other linages follow. But this strive for independence and power comes at a price; Koidam warriors are spread thin to the breaking point. Because of this, it's up to new warriors such as Dorod 'Koidam to hold their fathers' legacy together and defend it from their foes. Meanwhile, the human race struggles to recover from their near-annihilation after the Great War (better known as the Human-Covenant War). For Derek Patrickson, life seems to light up at last, and he's ready to relax and start a family. Or so he thinks. When rogue Brute packs attacks his home and claims his girlfriend along with roughly 200 other colonists, things become personal. But how is a young man supposed to track down a tribe of Jiralhanae and free all their captives, when the UNSC is busy with things elsewhere? Characters Main Characters *Dorod 'Koidam *Derek Patrickson Major Characters *Ervod 'Koidam *Tai Minato *Xutar 'Koidam *Niner-D3921 *Anders-D450 *Komodo-D372 Minor Characters *Sora Owen *Vod 'Koidam *Wilson Carter *Sophie-Marie Navidad *Tristan Temerity *Artemis Burke Chapters Prologue: A Father's Legacy 1347 HOURS, FEBRUARY 2ND, 2568 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR) Dorod felt a sting of pain as his back slammed against the stone wall. A moment of dizziness followed, before he regained full conscience – just in time to roll away from the wall before the glowing prongs that made up an energy sword slammed into it. The sword's owner – Ervod 'Koidam, Dorod's older cousin – cursed as he yanked the sword out of the rocky wall that surrounded them. Dorod took the opportunity to get back up on his feet and get a solid grip on his own sword. Ervod turned with surprising speed and slashed his sword through the stale air that made up the dark crypt. Dorod dodged and prepared to stab his opponent in the leg, only to feel new pain as something slammed into the side of his head and sent him flying a few units across the room. He impacted with the stone floor with a loud bang. He tried to push himself up with his elongated arms, but the pain was too much. Panting and sweating, he continued the attempt to get up, only to be stomped in the back. New and greater pain struck him, sending him down to the floor again. This is the end, he thought to himself while he struggled to stay conscious. He had been doing this for a whole cycle. Ervod had won every time. No matter what he did, Ervod always seemed to be one step ahead. He was unpredictable, he did not fight like the instructors Dorod had faced many times before. He barely heard Ervod whisper something, setting his mind straight; he could not surrender, he had to try again, no matter how many times. Ignoring the pain, he rolled to the right, impacting with the senior Sangheili's leg, sending him off balance. Dorod followed up with as mighty a swing as he could manage with his left arm, hitting him on the unprotected thigh. While Ervod roared in pain, Dorod mustered his willpower and forced himself up on both legs. Without thought, he reignited his sword and lunged at his senior. Ervod made a quick jump backwards, just barely avoiding contact with the glowing prongs. He got back up on his feet and stepped back towards the wall. For a fraction of a subunit, the two Sangheili simply stared at one another while panting heavily. Finally, Ervod shut off his energy sword and clipped it to his belt. "You are improving" he said, with an obvious tone of surprise. "I thought that that last hit on your head and the following kick ensured my victory for sure. So it is true after all. You are resilient." "Not really" Dorod hissed, turning off his own sword and clipped it back to his belt. "I simply refuse to accept defeat." "Whatever the reason, the ability to continue despite being almost consumed in pain is something every Sangheili desires." He raised his arm and wiped sweat from his forehead and neck, before removing his helmet and placing it on a nearby bench, close to a glowing torch. "But not all actually learn it. It is promising to see you developing so fast. Xutar will be pleased. After all, the future of Koidam lies in the hands of the new generation of warriors, so you will have to be stronger than those that came before us." It was much truth and wisdom in that statement. Despite the fact that Koidam had established itself as a power to be recognized in an extremely short amount of time – roughly two ages – their warriors were too few for the amount of territory they controlled. Although numbers had grown with a considerable amount over time as Sangheili exiles fled to Koidam space to start anew and serve a new Kaidon, Koidam always needed more. The problem became even more noticeable after the Covenant's collapse. The Kaidon at the time, Jor 'Koidam, had become overeager, sending most of his forces on conquest throughout loyalist-held space. While the disorganized mongrels that controlled the lightly-guarded colonies were easily driven away, Koidam forces were spread thin, barely able to afford large enough garrisons for each colony to maintain order. The Kaidon had not realized this, and prepared another invasion, only to be afflicted with Throat Curse – a deadly disease – and die soon thereafter. He was replaced by Shipmaster Vod, who cancelled future invasion plans and focused on securing Koidam's new territories, as well as making sure the surrounding space was adequately protected, for ragtag groups of Jiralhanae still roamed there. "I will be up for the challenge." He continued panting for well over a unit, but he remained standing. He would not show the courtesy of sitting down before his opponent. The duel was over, but it would take some more time before Dorod finally returned to his normal self, his self that was not all about fighting that came out at the beginning of every battle. "Of course you will." Ervod chuckled as he put his helmet back on his head, twisting it slightly to connect with the rest of the armor. "After all, if you do this well against me – who, as you know well, just graduated from the first year of the Torka Academy – then you have unlimited possibilities, young one. Just sharpen your skills and everything will be fine." He waved at Dorod to follow him out of the crypt and back into the main keep. But as they walked towards the wooden door, Dorod realized he had one more question. "But I still do not know how to be unpredictable like you are. That was the reason you defeated me so many times. Can you teach me to be the same?" Ervod let his hand rest on the door handle while turning towards Dorod, clicking his mandibles into a smile. "You already have. Or do you believe your last maneuver is standard for all Sangheili? Caught me off guard, it did. Otherwise you would not have made it a draw." He turned away from Dorod and opened the door. Silently, the two Sangheili left and closed the door behind them, leaving the dark crypt in silence. Part I: Genesis Chapter 1: Perfectly Unperfect 1847 HOURS, JUNE 5TH, 2574 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR) Derek finished tying his shoes with a sigh. It had been a long day at work. On top of that, he had promised to go with Tai Minato – his best friend since college and fellow worker at the Mu VI archaeological dig site – to the local gym. Tai had, like usual, been afraid that he'd gotten lazy and weak lately. However, appearance-wise, Derek thought that he looked just as beefy as usual. Coupled with the tiresome work, the exercising at the gym had wasted Derek. Now he wanted nothing more than to go home, eat dinner with Sora and then go to bed. Taking into consideration, of course, that she didn't want to "stay up late" with him again. He said his goodbyes to Tai – who was still pulling on his shirt – and walked out of the building. Upon going through the automatic doors, he was met by the usual soft afternoon breeze common on Mu VI. He salivated the moment he felt the breeze against his skin before he reached his MarkVille V20 car. After stepping in and buckling up, he pushed a button, followed by the soft, careful tones common for SoftFlux music, the most recent music trend – or at least out on the New Colonies. Mu VI was inhabited by the UNSC very recently, just two years prior, although it wasn't their find; a conglomerate of Kig-Yar clans had found it while on the run from the UNSC fleet and decided to take a stand. When the UNSC found the Kig-Yar, they had already built numerous redoubt fortresses, dug a great deal of tunnels underneath the surface, and had a shipyard in progress. As a response, the UNSC decided to attack. The Kig-Yar fleet in orbit had been easily dealt with, but AA-cannons prevented a proper ground insertion. Luckily, a group of ODSTs had been available and were quickly deployed. After a while, they had disabled most of the cannons and taken a bite out of the shipyard. The rest of the operation went smoothly, or so the UNSC had told everyone, anyway. Rumors of surviving Kig-Yar roaming in caves and mines weren't uncommon even to this day, and sometimes not without proof. And of course this led to intense local debates as to whether the UNSC had done a sloppy job, or if the Kig-Yar had simply dug deeper than initially thought. Either way, the UNSC didn't do much about it, beyond approving the commission of a militia. Derek had enlisted with the militia as soon as it was announced. He didn't have any particular love for military life, but people always said he would be a good soldier. Plus, he wanted to help protect Mu VI's colonists – especially Sora – should the need arise. He had completed the training last year, and had to check back at regular intervals along with the other recruits to make sure they were still fit and able. In the meantime, he – along with Tai – had signed up as security at the archeological dig site. The dig site had been set up early in the year after a farmer had found a strange tablet in his backyard. Once this was revealed, the UNSC had sent a bunch of researchers, scientists and miners to search the area for similar finds – unfortunately forcing the farmer in question to leave the area and start anew elsewhere. Some darker rumors even claimed that the farmer had actually disappeared, although these weren't actually believed, as reliable sources claimed that he had simply moved in with a family member down south. But Derek didn't care about the details of his job; as long as it paid well and abided by the laws, he was satisfied. After roughly ten minutes of driving, he could see the small little cabin he was so familiar with by now; him, Tai and Sora had built it by hand some time ago, allowing them to escape the ridiculous rents they had to pay for an apartment near the town center that they had lived in before. He drove past several other, similar cabins built by other handy people who wanted to avoid the hassles of city life, and up on the parking lot to the cabin's west. He switched it off and stepped out. Even out there, he could sense the smell of Sora's excellent cooking. He grinned and stepped towards the little cabin, rejoicing about his perfect life. But he had barely walked six feet before his chatter started to shake in his pocket. Cursing quietly, he picked it up and pushed the answer button. To his surprise, Tai's face appeared on the screen. "Derek" he said, apparently panting, or nervous about something. Derek was about to ask what was going on when Tai continued. "The militia's requested to report to designated HQ, ASAP. " "Tai, what the hell is going on?" Derek asked, but he felt that he knew it already. "The Brutes are attacking. But this isn't a typical raid. They're attacking en force. Lots of ships, and lots of troops." Derek shivered, while his heartbeats got faster and he suddenly started to sweat nervously. The Brutes hadn't performed organized raids for several years. What had caused such a sudden change? Whatever it was, the fact that they attacked en masse against a defenseless colony, was definitely bad news. And Derek had never liked bad news; they often got even worse. He switched off the chatter - while trying to resist the feelings of panic building up inside of him - and stuffed it back into his pocket. His life wasn't so perfect anymore. Chapter 2: A Blooming Lotus 1855 HOURS, JUNE 5TH, 2574 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR) Komodo twitched as Anders strapped on the last part of his MJOLNIR Mark VII Powered Assault Armor. As Anders backed away, Komodo tried moving his arms, legs, head and overall body. A routine protocol he was used to by now. The armor wasn't supposed to malfunction, but he had decided long ago not to take any chances when it came to technology. Machines break, like he would often repeat to Anders and Niner. As he flexed with his right arm, a long, sharp knife extended from a compartment in the vambrace; a deadly weapon in close quarters – and in the right hands – it was one of the notable upgrades to the Mark VII armor from the Mark VI, along with improved movement amplifiers, various sensory components and an active camouflage generator. All these improvements made the Delta Company Spartans ever more deadly. And Komodo was determined to one day become the deadliest of them all. But today there wasn't time to think about that. Lotus Team had a job to do. "Komodo!" Niner had appeared in the room, looking tired and short-fused like usual, armor on and helmet in hand. "I swear, I'm gonna request a faster teammate soon if you don't hurry up." It would have affected him, hadn't Niner said that about two dozen times earlier on other operations. He had come to learn that Niner usually never meant anything he said in casual situations. It was just his idea of acting in charge. And Komodo and Anders had come to a mutual understanding of accepting that. They decided he had the right to act that way. After all, neither of them would be capable of command like him, even though they had been given basic training in how or when to take command of a unit and what basic orders to give. "I'm on my way, Chief." Komodo hurried to grab two suppressed M7 sub-machine guns – basically normal SMGs with a silencer and laser sight attached – and a M6C/SOCOM – an M6 PDWS with a silencer attached – from the nearest weapon stand and strapped them on his armor. On the way out, he grabbed a duffel bag with his hacking/infiltration devices and a couple Micro-Injection Nuclear Entry (MINE) charges. A quarter of a minute later, all was set. The three Spartans that made up Lotus Team set off together to halt the onslaught of a fleet of savage slavers. Komodo felt the adrenaline and excitement start building up inside of him. And he was certain Niner and Anders felt the same. The Brutes would soon know the might of a blooming lotus. ---- Major Tristan Temerity continued to stare at the monitor in front of him. It showed three dozen large blips. The brute slaver fleet in orbit attacking them at this moment. He frowned. The baby kongs weren't supposed to attack. Not yet. All sources had indicated that an attack was a month away, at least. Preparations weren't fully ready yet. A pad to the left started beeping. The Major tapped the pad with his index finger, and the face of Rear Admiral Artemis Burke appeared on a screen above the pad. "It seems the plans have been screwed up a bit too early" Temerity said towards the screen. "What do you want me to do? Shall I reveal our surprise?" "No" the admiral replied sternly. "We will hold it as long as we can. I want to take down every one of those bastards. We wait." Temerity sighed. That order spelled certain doom for the militia and some of the colonists. But in the end, he had to follow orders. He stored his swelling doubts in the back of his mind and gave a simple "understood" reply. The screen turned black and the small office became quiet. Chapter 3: Descent Comrades 1900 HOURS, JUNE 5TH, 2574 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR) The phantom dropship exited the cruiser's hangar and descended through the planet Sanctimony's atmosphere, maneuvering skillfully through thick, grey clouds. After breaking through the last cloud on the way down, rain hailed down on the craft, turning the hull wet in a manner of seconds. With the sound of the rain hitting the dropship, Dorod and the other passengers realized that soon, they would have to step out into that cursed weather themselves. It did not fill them with joy. Dorod glanced around the craft; there were nearly three dozen Sangheili in the troop bay, including himself. They all wore the same cobalt-colored combat harnesses as him, as well. Together, they made up part of the newly graduated recruits from Venerate Vanguard, the Koidam capital. Having graduated with honors, they had now been tasked with reinforcing Sanctimony's garrison. Dorod felt no small amount of excitement about his first assignment. For he would finally be able to prove himself as a true soldier in battle with the Jiralhanae; the brutal beasts had once again begun to stir, even working up the gall to attack Sanctimony. The colony had been established during the Koidam-led expansion during the Schism. Originally governed by a member of the High Council, the planet became a battleground after Jiralhanae forces murdered the councilor and attempted to install a chieftain as the regional commander instead. Sangheili forces resisted, fighting for days until the Koidam fleet arrived and slaughtered the councilor's killers. The remaining Sangheili and lesser covenant races on the planet deferred to Koidam authority with little to no fuss at all. Ever since, Sanctimony became the fledgling Koidam empire's main source of metals for starship production. Which was just about the only purpose the planet served. The weather was reportedly always terrible; whether it be terrifying rainstorms in the autumn, prolonged periods of biting cold in winter or bone-drying heat in the summer. Spring period was largely nonexistent. To add to that, the surface was as far from flat as it could possibly come, making building standard settlements a challenge in and of itself. As such, it was inhabited only by miners, a small garrison as well as a local governor along with his staff and their families in the sole stable and permanent settlement – often called The Refuge. The number of inhabitants at the colony was at most seven hundred. The small two-ship defense force in orbit harbored more personnel than the planet's entire populace. Which, in a way, made the Jiralhanae's attack more understandable; they had probably hoped for lots of resources with minimal effort. That was what Dorod had decided assume, anyhow, based on what he had heard. Dorod was interrupted in his thoughts by a friendly shove from the recruit to his right. "So, eager yet? " the youngling asked. Dorod turned to face him; he looked rather ordinary for a just recently-matured Sangheili, except for some scars on the side of his head. "Yes" Dorod replied. "I long to prove my worth. Do you not do the same?" "Of course I do" the other recruit said enthusiastically. As if he had suddenly remembered something important, he quickly added: "Pardon my manners. I am Idbo, of the Khurel lineage." Dorod recognized the clan name: Khurel was one of the few lineages on Venerate Vanguard that had actually managed to mount an effective resistance against the Koidam during their war of conquest on the planet. In the end, they were crushed by the Koidam army, but not before they had earned the respect of Koidam's warriors. By now, Khurel numbered amongst Koidam's most valuable vassals, their warriors hardy and brave. "I am Dorod. Dorod 'Koidam." "A pleasure" Idbo said wholeheartedly. "May both our lineages win glory in battle with the Jiralhanae!" Idbo emphasized the statement by following up with an inspiring battle cry. The other recruits joined in quickly once they realized what had been said. Dorod considered for a moment to ask about Idbo's scars, but quickly decided against it. 'I should probably get to know him better first' he thought. Something told him it might have been a private topic. Instead he joined in with the others' battle cry as the dropship shook, nearing the surface. Chapter 4: Preparatory Measures 1928 HOURS JUNE 5TH, 2574 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR) Derek took a quick peek at the watch in his locker as he finished putting on his simple bowl-formed militia-issue helmet. He was surprised to see how little time had actually passed since he had been informed to return to the city to gear up. Running into the cabin, practically yelling in Sora's face how she had to flee to flee to a safe shelter, rush back to the car, drive back into the city, get to the militia's barracks, and get dressed up in the battle dress uniform (BDU) felt like it took much longer than slightly less than half an hour that it had actually taken. Maybe it's the nerves playing tricks he thought to himself, heart still racing. He wiped away some sweat from his forehead and then looked at the others in his platoon. They were fully dressed too, but looked no more ready for battle than he did; some soaked in sweat, others looked obviously nervous, others did weak attempts to conceal their anxiety. Who could blame them? They were common folk. Civvies. They hadn't been drilled for true war like the men in the Marine Corps. At most, they were meant to combat militaristic innies, or mad, surviving jackals that may or may not have remained after the planet's liberation. Now they were going up against alien apes taller than them by at least a third and with broad shoulders and muscles that would make an Olympic athlete cower in fear. And to top that they appeared to be organized this time around, unlike the mad charge that had been the status quo on other colonies. The fact that the only personnel the UNSC claimed they could spare to the planet's defense was a few Sergeants to command the platoons and a Major – one Tristan Temerity – for command of the whole militia didn't exactly raise the men's confidence. Derek spun around as the door to the barracks opened with a creaking sound. To his dubious relief it turned out to be a fully geared-up and unshaved Sergeant Wilson Carter, leader of their platoon (3rd). There were twenty-four other Sergeants like him, one for each forty-man platoon. Derek didn't really know what to think of the man; the militiamen didn't meet their superior very often, seeing as exercise periods were few and far between. But now, they would have to follow his orders to the letter, if any of them were to have any hope of living through the day. They would have to trust that he, as a marine, would know how to lead them properly. "All right, men, this is it!" the sturdy man barked, taking on an aggressive command-stance. "We're under attack. You probly didn't sign up for it, but now you're the only defense this colony's got until reinforcements arrives from nearlying sectors." The Sergeant paused a little to catch a breath. Derek felt somewhat relieved; it at least sounded like help was on the way. "I will be clean with you" Carter continued. "The odds are against us in more ways than one. But if we don't stand up and do something, then these…''mongrel apes'' will go for the civilians; our friends, our parents, our children." He did a pause for dramatic effect and to let his message sink in. Some in the platoon actually started to look a little more composed. "So, we'll just have to stand up, block the alien SOBs' path and fight them like there's no tomorrow." Derek – and probably a few others – calmed down a little. They weren't less afraid or anxious, but they had been reminded of what the stakes were. They would just have to be brave, swallow their fear and do what they could. When he was sure everyone was fully focused on him and when some looked less sick, Carter took out a pad from one of the pouches on his belt and looked briefly at the screen. Looking over it thoroughly with his eyes, the sergeant then looked up and barked orders again. "All right, move out! Major wants us to guard the police hq. Cops will back us up in the battle too. Now move move move!" And they moved, all forty of them. There was no turning back now. Their lives would from now on be in jeopardy, and all the while hundreds of thousands of lives depended on them. ---- Komodo watched through the sniper rifle's scope as a squadron of the brutes' teardrop-shaped dropships flew with a characteristic sound associated with everything kept in the air by gravity generators. The ships had an effective pattern; far away enough from each other to avoid a clustered explosion in case one of them were hit, but on the other hand close enough to maintain a formation and lay down concentrated suppressive fire if needed. Which meant it was far too organized for a bunch of pirates and marauders as the brutes had appeared to be on all earlier operations. Komodo didn't like the change at all; there could be a lot of reasons for the sudden organizational behavior, none of which he considered a good thing. The only thing predictable this time around was the aliens' first destination; Mu City. It would be where the battalion-sized militia made their stand while the civvies secured themselves in underground shelters prepared for occasions such as these – one of the few investments into protecting the damn rock the UNSC had made. This, and many other things, was enough to make Komodo wonder why they had been assigned to the planet in the first place. When receiving their orders, they were told to monitor quietly undercover for innie activity, but they hadn't found any trace whatsoever during their stay. The team had come to the conclusion that it was probably just a cover for some grander scheme. What it was they hadn't managed to figure out yet. But maybe this is it the Spartan thought. Maybe command had guessed – or knew – that something like this was coming up. The thought didn't sit very well with him; if it was true, then it was surprising that the UNSC hadn't taken any more action. The possibility that humanity's leadership had done terrible planning wasn't very comforting. Komodo sighed, and then lowered the rifle. He wanted some orders right about now. Anything, just so long as he got to do something. He was certain that his teammates agreed; Anders, perching on a rock beside Komodo, was making cracking sounds with his knuckles, and – though Komodo couldn't see through his visor – he suspected that the bulky Spartan had a sour look on his face. Typical signs of him being impatient. Niner looked away, still listening in his radio; probably orders from the major. That was how Lotus handled things; Niner took care of all interaction with superiors, and then he explained it Komodo and Anders, who would simultaneously make preparations – recce, observation etc. A few seconds passed, and then Niner reestablished his link to the team-channel. "All right; new orders. We're to find a good observation point as near the town as possible. From there, we will see how they deploy – numbers, formations, etc. – and transmit back to the major." Anders interrupted, his voice dripping with impatience. "And then?" "Nothing." Niner said it bluntly, and it didn't lessen Anders' surprise. The latter stood up, towering a few centimeters over Niner. "You mean to say that we have to sit and play 'monkey see, monkey do' while the baby kongs kill everything in sight?" Komodo didn't like it either – and it wasn't just because he wondered whether Anders was more upset that he wouldn't get to fight or that they couldn't help the militia – but also because he had a similarly bad feeling as he had about their deployment order; he couldn't understand what the UNSC was thinking, or if they even had a proper plan to protect the planet. It just didn't add up. "Look, I don't like this either" Niner said, raising his voice over Anders'. "But we have orders now; how about we follow them and see what happens?" Anders backed down after a few seconds, though snorted loudly while he did so. Niner, satisfied, turned and began a steady jog towards the city in the distance. Anders quickly got in line behind him, followed by Komodo. What the hell was going on? The thought circulated through his head as they traversed the hillside. Chapter 5: Part II: Exodus Part III: Leviticus Epilogue Category:AAO Stories